


Natural Vice and Studied Thought

by Iseult_Variante



Category: Antony and Cleopatra - Shakespeare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-23
Updated: 2006-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-25 04:47:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1632383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iseult_Variante/pseuds/Iseult_Variante
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Pardon what I have spoke, / For 'tis a studied, not a present thought, / By duty ruminated."  (Warning for incest subtext.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Natural Vice and Studied Thought

**Author's Note:**

> Beta thanks to 2am_optimism and Starfishchick. Any remaining issues are mine (or Caesar's).
> 
> Written for Roz McClure

 

 

Tension twisted through the streets of Rome, and every whispered rumour wound tighter...

_What of Pompey? Antony in Egypt still? How is't with Caesar?_

... for war and civil strife on those very streets were still near in memory.

In one of the more exclusive bathhouses, close to the Palatine Hill, the talk revolved around money and politics, politics and money. A loud murmur filled the cavernous space, and calculating glances were cast towards one of the smaller, semi-private pools, set away in an alcove. Three young men sat there in the steam, apparently at their leisure, speaking in voices too low to overhear. None of the men watching believed that they were idle, though, for there with his two most trusted lieutenants sat Octavius Caesar, who ruled a third of the world.

"... and finally, there are rumours that Pompey himself was recruiting at a tavern in Ostia. False, surely - as Agrippa has said, he is aship somewhere off Naulochus - but even so the story spreads."

Caesar nodded. "Thank you, Maecenas." He had listened to both of their reports impassively, though the news got worse and worse, leaning back with arms outstretched along the ledge of the pool and staring into the water with a frown of concentration. Now, he sat up, wiping at a bead of sweat that had gathered in the hollow of his throat. He leaned forward to rest his forearms on his thighs under the water, interlacing his fingers between his knees. He had his own news. "We may shortly have more pressing concerns than Pompey. I have word that Antony has left Egypt."

Agrippa's eyes brightened, his smile all teeth. "At last!"

"But has he come for his duty, or to take up his own cause, now that his brother and his wife have failed in their warring on his behalf?" Maecenas was ever cautious. "Do your messengers speak of his intentions, Caesar?"

"He seems inclined towards his honour, or so he spoke to Cleopatra." _Ironic, that,_ Caesar thought.

"Oh, how the queen must have howled, that Fulvia in death has finally drawn him away!"

Maecenas ignored Agrippa. "So he will help us fight Pompey?"

"So Lepidus insists."

"Bah! Lepidus must insist so, caught as he is between Caesar and Antony. He knows that he must be struck first, a mere quintain, once you decide to tilt at each other."

"You are right, Agrippa," Caesar's smile was small and cold. "But we must first deal with Pompey, and for that we need Antony with us." This was their most pressing concern. "We need some way to bind him to our side, some Gordian snare that we can cut, Alexander-like, when it is time for that last enterprise."

They sat in silence for a moment, each considering. Agrippa caught Maecenas' eye with a questioning look; the other sighed but nodded. Still, Agrippa hesitated.

Caesar caught their exchange. He raised an eyebrow, somewhat amused. "If you have some idea, then speak it."

"Caesar, Octavia your sister- " Agrippa began.

Abruptly, Caesar sat up, the water lapping against his chest before calming again. "We have already dismissed this idea." He glared, and Maecenas put up a placating hand.

Agrippa leaned forward insistently. "Yes, my lord, but it is the only way!"

With a frustrated sound, Caesar looked away from them, drawing his arms up out of the water and leaning against the side of the pool as before, drumming the fingers of one hand against the tile. Maecenas and Agrippa exchanged another look; it was rare to see Caesar so bothered.

He sighed. "You speak truly, but what will become of her when at last the knot twixt Antony and Caesar unravels as it must? For all the world I would not give up my sister thus."

"That is all after Pompey! As triumvirs you must face Pompey first. You must bind your third with that of Antony, Caesar. Even the noble Octavia would tell you so." Maecenas paused, but Caesar's gaze had turned inward.

"For _all_ the world..." _If Antony accepts, once we see to Pompey... what then will Antony do? Parthia and the East are yet his concern..._

"Caesar?"

He returned his gaze to them, suddenly focussed. "Agrippa, do you remember when my divine father spoke of Cleopatra's skills?"

Agrippa looked curiously at Caesar, but answered with a suggestive smile, "He admired many of her skills, but none that seem to fit our current ends."

Maecenas rolled his eyes, then looked expectantly at Caesar. "What are you thinking, Caesar?"

"He said that she was particularly skilled at fishing. That no matter how far she played out her line, she always landed what she got on the hook."

Agrippa nodded. "You think she has Antony well-hooked?"

"If that is so, then he will refuse the offer-"

"No, he will not refuse, Maecenas, hooked or no. He cannot be so far from what he was that he will refuse such an offer in good faith." Caesar could not understand this change in Antony, but he thought that he had the measure of it nonetheless. "And the love of Caesar for his sister is well known, and so faithful would be any such offer, clearly." _Oh, bitter to outwit your own leaning!_

Shaking his head, Caesar lifted himself from the water, waving away the bathhouse slave that came to dry him, taking the towel himself. Running the towel down his chest, he said, "Maecenas, sound out the Senate most carefully about funding for more ships. Agrippa, see if you can get a more exact accounting of the men Pompey has in Sicily." He paused, bending to dry his legs and feet. "As for our last discussion, we must think on it awhile. Farewell." Wrapping the towel around his waist, he started towards the dressing room, and within five paces he was beset by power-mongers.

*

In her late husband's house, Octavia sat with skeins of wool looped around her fingers, pooled in her lap, and in tangled masses in the basket at her feet. Caesar observed her for a moment from the doorway before entering. She was the elder of them, but still young. _My gracious sister, beloved by all of Rome._

"Hello, sister," he gestured to the tangles in the basket at her feet as he came towards her, "If I had known you were so lacking in entertainment that you would make work for yourself, I would have come sooner."

"Your young nephew was playing at fishing this morning," Octavia smiled ruefully, "He decided he needed new nets. Oh, but you look stricken! It is nothing, easily mended."

Caesar shook off her concern and his expression. "You mistake me, I was distracted by thoughts of work. I am sure you will have it all to rights soon enough."

"My poor, care-worn brother, you look so tired! Lie here and rest awhile." Octavia offered her cheek for him to kiss, which he did. He reclined obediently on the couch beside her, putting his head in her lap as she shifted her wool to his chest. "Here, hold out your hands," she passed him a twist of black wool, and a twist of red, looping them around each hand. She hummed to herself as she kept unknotting the wool, reaching over to pass it through his fingers from time to time so that her thighs shifted slightly beneath his head.

It was peaceful and warm in his sister's salon, and Caesar's lids grew heavy and his breathing slow. He could remember sitting thus as a boy, in the library of his parents' house, reading while she wove or knitted. He had been a sickly child, and she his most constant comfort. He had wept shamefully when she left for her husband's house, and spent the week following on the couch in the library, convinced that it still carried her scent.

She smelled the same now, of juniper and roses. She had finished with the wool, and was now combing her fingers through his hair. It was familiar and each pass of her hand soothed a part of him that he did not like to look on very closely. He opened his eyes to find her watching him. When he met her gaze she smiled sweetly. "My poor brother, caretaker of a third part of the world, with so little care for yourself!"

He had to force himself to meet her eyes. _Oh, my innocent sister!_ Shifting, he wrapped his arms around her waist, turning his face into her stomach and breathing deeply. _Antony will love you well, then use you ill, but never better nor worse than I!_

Her hands stilled on his head. "Brother?"

Sighing, he released her and sat up. Forcing lightness, he said, "With so much sisterly care, I could manage my part, Lepidus', and Antony's together, I am sure!" Standing, he stooped to kiss her forehead. "But I must away. Duty and necessity call, and I cannot slip their leash. Farewell, dearest sister."

"Farewell, brother." Her eyes were clear and trusting as he turned away and left.

*

On the streets of Rome, tension was wound to strangling. Antony had arrived in Rome to meet with his partners. When such rivals meet, the world must hold its breath perforce.

Caesar, Agrippa, and Maecenas had met and set their plans. Caesar would prick Antony's honour, and then cue Agrippa to suggest Octavia as the tie to bind them together again. As they entered the meeting, Maecenas drew Caesar aside.   
"If he should refuse, Caesar?"

"I do not know, Maecenas. Ask Agrippa." Caesar shook his head irritably and turned away as Lepidus began to speak. There was no real need to consider that possibility. Even now Antony was not such a fool as would openly refuse this last chance at peace between them, no matter his eventual intentions. Foolish for Antony not to grasp it, moreso for Caesar not offer when all possible outcomes could be turned to his favour. Caesar was never a fool. _And I shall have my sister back soon enough, and all the world with her._

 


End file.
